3.5 starsKate McMurray returns to the world of baseball in her new series about the players of Rainbow League, an LGBT baseball league in NewYork. I e3.5 starsKate McMurray returns to the world of baseball in her new series about the players of Rainbow League, an LGBT baseball league in NewYork. I enjoyed several of her previous works, including Out in the Field and The Stars That Tremble, and while Thrown a Curve wasn’t quite up to par, it still showed her considerable experience and heart.

The story about Mason, a former Yankee player, and Patrick, a very effeminate, eccentric hairdresser is exactly the type of thing you want to read during these hot summer days. McMurray’s characterization is excellent. These two may seem fairly stereotypical at first glance, but they never do what you’d expect. In fact, Mason kept surprising me at every corner, distancing himself from the macho jock stereotype with every one of his actions.

The story is told in third person, which is an odd choice since it distances the reader from the characters somewhat. It made it very hard for me to connect with Mason and Patrick at first, but the truly superb characterization soon made up for it. In addition, since all the stories are connected, McMurray includes several short glimpses into Nate’s and Carlos’ minds, making it quite clear that the next book will be about them.

For those of you who are European or simply not fans of baseball, rest assured – this series may be about baseball players, but there’s very little actual baseball in it. Instead, this is a low-angst, heart-warming story with fully fleshed-out characters and great pacing.

I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating: Nora Roberts is the Nora Roberts for a reason. She knows just what her readers enjoy, and it’s clear frI’ve said this before, but it bears repeating: Nora Roberts is the Nora Roberts for a reason. She knows just what her readers enjoy, and it’s clear from every page that she still enjoys it too, even after so many years and over 200 books behind her. It’s pretty clear when authors love what they do, and you can tell right from the start that this woman writes precisely what she herself would want to read.

The Collector is another one in a long line of successes, and while it’s far from being her best, it’s a book worth remembering. From passionate romances, to sociopath and long lost treasures, Roberts packed it all in this compulsively readable book.

We meet Lila Emerson, a YA paranormal author, as she is house-sitting for a wealthy couple. It’s something she does in her nomadic life, and while she does it, she likes observing people around her and making up their life stories. When she witnesses a murder right across the street, she doesn’t hesitate to notify the authorities and do something about it, but what seemed like a lovers’ quarrel gone terribly wrong is actually far more sinister and dangerous. Ash is the brother of one of the victims, determined to discover the truth about his baby brother’s death. In his grief, he doesn’t see Lila coming until she’s very deep under his skin, but they are both stubborn people set in their ways so their path is not the easiest or the quickest. Ash was sometimes difficult to like, although he was always easy to understand. He isn’t Nora’s usual hero – perfect in every way. While he’s handsome and rich, he is a hard man to live with, and I loved that Roberts never quite changed his nature, not completely. Anything else would have been a fairy tale.

There are two romances in this book – the main one, and the secondary romance between Ash and Lila’s best friends. Ash and Lila met under highly stressful circumstances and it reflected on their relationship. I wasn’t always convinced that they were meant for each other and it wasn’t all smooth sailing for them, but they grew together, they both compromised and changed and by the end, I was right there with them. It was a bit different with Julie and Luke. They got less time on page, but their second chance romance made my little heart beat faster right from the start.

I’m not the sort of person who shies away when a book is over 300 pages long, but I did wish for better editing in this case. There were times when I was extremely tired of this book because it seemed to go around in circles, and I suspect it would have been much more exciting with about a hundred pages less.

Saying goodbye to dear characters is never easy, but when they’ve been through hell and back in the time you’ve spent with them, it’s even harder to lSaying goodbye to dear characters is never easy, but when they’ve been through hell and back in the time you’ve spent with them, it’s even harder to let them go. My time with Nadia, Nate, Bishop, Agnes and Dante was exciting and wonderful, and I'll gladly join them again if Jenna Black ever decides to revisit them.

Revolution is even darker than the previous two books, as our three young Executives and their two companions are forced to hide, first in the Basement, and then in Debasement, a dreadful place ruled by the most vicious gang lord. Nadia and Nate have enemies coming at them from all sides. Thea and her replica puppet Dorothy are ruling Paxco with an iron fist, aiming all their efforts towards killing Nate and his friends and making an example out of them. The Resistance is no better, and Maiden’s gang is simply terrifying. A bunch of kids, no matter how smart, stand very little chance against all of them, but Nate and Nadia have been known to beat those odds before.

Nevertheless, things looked incredibly bleak for a while, with no visible way out for the mini resistance. Their entire arsenal against no less than three powerful enemies consisted of a hope, a prayer, and some clever maneuvering. The savage world of Debasement was perhaps the hardest to handle for Executives, but they had Bishop to lead them through. In the end, worlds collided everywhere they turned, and they had to truly open their eyes and see everything that was wrong with Paxco.

Jenna Black is a seasoned writer, which is evident from her every sentence. Her sense of pacing is superb and her writing clean and tightly controlled. Above all, Revolution stands out with its characterization. It didn’t take the direction I was expecting, but the characters grew and learned the entire time.

I believe the point that Jenna Black tried to make with this trilogy is that winning the war is usually only the beginning. When the war is won, true battles are only just starting. Power doesn’t come without sacrifices, and the willingness to make those sacrifices for the greater good is the mark of a true leader. Therefore, a truly happy, fulfilling ending was all but impossible for some, but their sacrifice wasn’t at all in vain.

Jenna Black’s Replica trilogy may be somewhat underappreciated, but I highly recommend it to fans of dystopian fiction, delightful action and strong romances. Honestly, what’s not to like?

The best thing about Julie Kagawa is that she can get away with almost everything. She put us through hell so many times – just think of that cliffhanThe best thing about Julie Kagawa is that she can get away with almost everything. She put us through hell so many times – just think of that cliffhanger in The Eternity Cure – and still we keep coming back for more.

The very simple truth is that I liked Rogue more than Talon. The first read like light contemporary YA at times, what with all the surfing, parties and teens hanging out. It’s true that we needed to really see Ember as part human in order to understand her struggles, but it’s also true that for a dragon book, Talon had very little actual dragon action to speak of.

Rogue is certainly an improvement in that (and every other) regard. There is more tension, more danger, more drama, and there are more dragons flying around. Kagawa still doesn’t explore them to their full potential, but she’s getting there, and we’re happily following along.

Ember, being two-natured, is torn between two men, one for her human, and one for her dragon self. It’s clear, as it usually is, who she leans toward more strongly, which makes the whole thing tedious and unnecessary. Fortunately, the focus in this book is very far from romance. There is a war brewing which puts romantic entanglements very low on everyone’s priority lists.

The title of this book could just as easily be Ember in the Middle, and I don’t only mean romantically. With Talon’s search team on one side (led by her twin brother), and The Order of Saint George on the other, Ember has no shortage of enemies to run from. But even worse than guns are the secrets. It seems that everyone has something to hide.

The worst thing about Julie Kagawa is that she can get away with almost everything, and she knows it. Using the same tropes, putting us through hell and back, leaving us hanging from a cliff by our very fingertips… all is fair and all is forgivable. And we’ll always keep going back for more.

Clash of Iron, the breathlessly awaited sequel to Angus Watson’s Age of Iron is finally here. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on this book ever sincClash of Iron, the breathlessly awaited sequel to Angus Watson’s Age of Iron is finally here. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on this book ever since I finished Watson’s debut. When done right, historical fantasy is my favorite genre, and this author definitely knows what he’s doing. In Clash of Iron, he takes us one step further in exploring the British Iron Age, a period that gives him free reign and ample opportunities. Not much is known about that time, which gives Watson a lot of space to take the direction he chooses. We know, however, that Iron Age in Britain ended with Roman invasion, and that threat is at the forefront of our heroes’ minds in this book.

The first half of Clash of Iron is a bit slower than we’re used to. With so many points of view and without a definite threat on the horizon, the story lacks focus for a while. Romans’ arrival has been predicted and prophesized, but not many believe that they’re an actual threat. As a new queen, Lowa is determined to unite the tribes and give them a chance for survival, but others are not exactly cooperative.

I thought Lowa was particularly interesting this time. She struggled so much with her newfound power, unsure how to treat people or how to properly earn (or demand) respect. Most of the time, I felt that she was in over her head and the ineptitude was often quite evident from the results.

Like its predecessor, Clash of Iron is unapologetically bloody. It was a dark time and the low price of human life was reflected brilliantly in Watson’s story. There were times when it was a bit hard to read, but overall it gave the story and extra layer of authenticity, for which I was grateful. The ending is very intense, not a cliffhanger per se, but emotionally harrowing nevertheless. With so many things going on and so many enemies coming from all sides, sacrifices have to be made and lives must be lost. Watson showed us many times that he is merciless when his story requires it, and this ending was no different.

Things are a tangled mess right now, especially when we know that the Romans actually invaded in the end, which ended the Iron Age. With that in mind, the ending seems to be pretty clear. I only wonder how Watson might handle it. We’ll find out later this year in Reign of Iron. ...more

There’s a reason why Nora Roberts is indisputably one of the most popular writers in the world. Her experience is enormous and her self-assuredness isThere’s a reason why Nora Roberts is indisputably one of the most popular writers in the world. Her experience is enormous and her self-assuredness is evident on every page. Calling her a skilled storyteller is a bit of an understatement. Roberts is much more than that, she is the queen of genre fiction and as such, she can do no wrong.

The Liar is a fabulous example of everything I love in her books. She easily combines mystery, small town drama, a wonderful community and a delightful romance. In a 500-page book everything runs smoothly, and somehow, during that time, you and the characters become like family.

At the beginning of The Liar, we find a distraught young widow. Her husband has died, her baby daughter has lost her father and life has come crashing down hard on her, but the worst of it all is learning that her husband wasn’t a decent man, wasn’t who she thought he was at all. Left with a huge debt and very little self-esteem, Shelby must find her way once again and become the woman she deserves to be.

The opening chapters of the novel are a bit hard to get through. We can almost taste the bitterness of Richard’s betrayal, and the anger is sometimes too much. But 500 pages of watching Shelby claw her way back to a healthy life more than make up for it, and the initial difficulties only make the end that much more rewarding.

Left all alone and choking in debt, Shelby returns to Tennessee to be with her family. That’s when things really get interesting – Roberts paints for us a small town in such vivid detail, full of colorful characters and everyday events. Her choice of narration – third person (I could almost say omniscient) with many switches in perspective – would seem a bit odd in a different book, but here, everyone important was able to offer a glimpse through their eyes. I find it thrilling that something that could have been so messy ended up being smooth and put together seamlessly.

The romance was another pleasant surprise. Although the plot was a bit predictable and I was disappointed that Shelby didn’t think of the answer herself, the rest of the story made up for that small fault and the romance especially made it completely worthwhile. A perfect man can sometimes be so boring, but not Griffin. He was just what Shelby and her little girl needed.

This book is absolutely perfect for when you want to let everything else go and just be surrounded by something else altogether. Trust me, Nora Roberts won’t disappoint. I don’t think she knows how.

You don’t need me to tell you that a crime series blurbed by Stephen King, Kathy Reichs, David Baldacci and Dennis Lehane is kind of a big deal. A simYou don’t need me to tell you that a crime series blurbed by Stephen King, Kathy Reichs, David Baldacci and Dennis Lehane is kind of a big deal. A simple glimpse at the cover can reveal all you need to know. But even that simple glimpse isn’t needed in this case – if you’ve somehow managed to miss the hype surrounding J.D. Robb’s (Nora Roberts’) In Death series, it’s safe to conclude that you’ve been living under a pretty big rock.

Obsession in Death is the fortieth book in this series (that’s right, 40th), and it’s quite easy to see why Nora Roberts is so successful. The book is pure perfection, tightly plotted and so smoothly written that you barely even notice the words and the sentences. It’s a story that develops right in front of us, outside of language or any confines of its genre.

By now, Eve Dallas is one of the most popular characters in detective fiction – or fiction in general, really. We know the woman inside and out, we know that she’s tough as nails, but also kind-hearted and fair. We know that she doesn’t trust easily and has a god reason for it, and above all, we know that she loves Rourke more than life itself. Eve is nothing short of brilliant and Rourke is her perfect match. The balance Roberts creates between gruesome murders and their comforting love is practically flawless. Consequently, our emotional investment in these two is sky high.

In this installment, Eve faces a formidable enemy, a murderous secret admirer. A psychotic individual is killing people who have wronged Eve, seeing it as a favor of sorts, and it’s only a matter of time before the murderer turns on the object of his or her obsession. The game is tense and the stakes are high, but we know by now that Eve and Dallas are more than up to the task.

It needs to be said that the mystery was perfectly plotted and executed. I was surprised at every turn and solving the puzzle was completely beyond me. Roberts allowed me no time to breathe, which is exactly how I love my crime novels.

Don’t be intimidated by the number of books in this series. You can jump right in anytime and anywhere you want. Each book can easily function as a standalone, and although there’s mention of old cases, not knowing the details won’t take away from your reading enjoyment.

Jayne Ann Krentz wrote over fifty New York Times bestsellers in a variety of genres under three different names. That kind of experience can’t be bougJayne Ann Krentz wrote over fifty New York Times bestsellers in a variety of genres under three different names. That kind of experience can’t be bought or faked, and we as readers are lucky to reap the benefits.

Trust No one is another in a long string of successes for this author. I love her paranormal stuff, but this type of romantic suspense is what I go for when I want to relax and stop thinking about everything else. Murder and romance are what Krentz does best, and she did it even better than usual in this latest novel.

Our heroine is Grace, a young, intelligent woman famous for saving a child from a vicious killer in her teens. Grace is strong, but she is still traumatized and somewhat reluctant to allow people to get too close. Paradoxically, she is a bit too trusting in her professional life and she tends to focus only on the good in people. When she finds her boss’s dead body in his mansion, her life gets turned upside down. Her past and present suddenly collide and it seems that someone, probably the killer, is completely focused on her.

With so many walls around her personal life and her heart, Grace has never had a man she could trust. That all changes when her best friend sets her up on a blind date with Julius Arkwright, a successful yet utterly bored businessman. Sparks fly between the two, and despite being extremely careful, they manage to find common ground.

Once again, Krentz took us on an insanely exciting ride. The danger felt completely real, and Grace’s stalker seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. Add to that one dead rat, two thugs and a knife and you’ll get 320 pages of well-built suspense.

This is an author whose work I’ll never get tired of reading. Her books don’t necessarily stand out, but they are reliably good with clever plots and delightful romances. Highly recommended.

3.5 starsHere are the things one can expect in a book by Julie Kagawa: love triangles, enemies-to-lovers, forbidden love.

And here are the things that3.5 starsHere are the things one can expect in a book by Julie Kagawa: love triangles, enemies-to-lovers, forbidden love.

And here are the things that always end up working in a book by Julie Kagawa: love triangles, enemies-to-lovers, forbidden love.

As strange as it may seem, every single thing I dislike intensely always ends up working when it’s written by her. Having been warned about the love drama, I’ve waited over two months to read Talon, a decision I now regret with all my heart. I should have known she would deliver, but boy, I just never learn.

First of all, here there be dragons. That alone should be enough to make you want to read this book. Admittedly, the dragons mostly stay in their human form, but there’s hope for the future, and even hidden dragons are more interesting than no dragons at all! The dragon lore hasn’t been developed to its full potential, but I don’t doubt that it will be, hopefully in Rogue.

I won’t waste time discussing the love triangle. It’s clear, as it usually is, who the best boy is and who’ll end up with Ember. The whole romantic drama wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. The human part of Ember is drawn to one of the boys, and the dragon part to the other, but while both Riley and Garrett are great guys, I feel that we know her true match.

Danger comes from two sides in Talon: the Order of St. George and Talon itself. The former has worked against dragon for centuries. The Order’s soldiers are young, competent and completely merciless. But if the humans are merciless, Talon’s dragons are vicious, trained while they’re still hatchlings and thought that they’re a superior species.

Ember doesn’t quite see it that way. Her twin brother Dante is completely loyal to Talon which is a source of constant pain between them. The rift between them and her feelings about it were what allowed me to connect with her. The rest – her courage, determination and tendency to think for herself – were just a bonus.

Talon has a pretty open ending, which is another thing I tolerate only from certain authors. From anyone else, it would have infuriated me, but Kagawa can easily get away with it. I’m actually pretty desperate to get my hands on Rogue. Luckily, it’s almost out.

There is nothing even remotely new or original about this book, but that’s not a reasonable expectation within the (paranormal) mystery genre4.5 stars

There is nothing even remotely new or original about this book, but that’s not a reasonable expectation within the (paranormal) mystery genre. The important thing is to find a perfect balance between suspense, character development and a well-built mystery, and Marr achieved this to absolute perfection.

Marr is excellent at building tension slowly but steadily. The constant promise of senseless violence combined with Eva’s horrifying visions keeps us wide-eyed and at the edge of our seats, fully convinced that the killer is coming for everyone, Eva included, and that they stand very little chance of actually stopping him. As expected, there were a few red herrings along the way, and they were pretty easy to recognize as such, but the identity of the killer remained a mystery to me until it was casually, brilliantly revealed at just the right time.

Eva approaches the world with refreshing honesty and directness. The willingness to say exactly what’s on her mind at any given time is her most admirable quality by far. With one understandable exception, she expresses her thought and feelings with candor we all wish we could achieve, but aren’t brave enough to actually try. In a town where status is everything, she is the uncrowned princess, daughter of the richest, most powerful family in the tight little Southern community. But Eva, while well-aware and respectful of her position, approaches it with a healthy dose of self-irony and makes it impossible for us not to admire her for it.

The romance also worked well, even though the timing could have been better. I liked the idea of two childhood best friends finally coming together, and I liked Eva’s behavior toward Nate tremendously. For his part, Nate took his time in finally admitting his feelings, but when he did, there was no doubting his honesty and devotion.

In the end, while the well-built mystery certainly helps, for me it all comes down to Eva herself. The story is told from multiple perspectives, rules this book like she does her small community – gracefully, convincingly and by making smart decisions the entire time.

It’s pretty safe to say that the meaty, old-school urban fantasy Susan Krinard writes isn’t for everyone. This series is the epitome of its genre, heaIt’s pretty safe to say that the meaty, old-school urban fantasy Susan Krinard writes isn’t for everyone. This series is the epitome of its genre, heavily based in Norse mythology, with plenty of action but not a whole lot of romance to speak of. The upside, of course, is the abundance of information on Norse mythology, which is both entertaining and very educational. But at the same time, things like character development and humor suffer for it, and there is very little lightness to make this a more pleasurable reading experience for those who are not dedicated fans of the genre itself.

Trying to see Black Ice through the eyes of someone who doesn’t adore the genre itself was sometimes very hard. There is certainly more accessible urban fantasy to be found, and Krinard’s work is far more appropriate for urban fantasy purists. There are, believe it or not, people who prefer their UF free of humor, romance, and other things that serve to dilute and soften the narrative. I myself am not one of them, but I can appreciate what I like to call high urban fantasy on occasion.

Generally, Krinard’s sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired. I was disappointed by it in the first book, and this time it’s even more pronounced: this is an author who seems to be wholly unfamiliar with the concept of comic relief. In a narrative so heavily burdened with mythology, ancient weapons, gods and goddesses, a humorous remark here and there would have made a world of difference. As it is, there are parts that seem a bit dry and hard to get through.

Truth be told, this book also needed more in the way of character development. Mist’s powers continue to grow rapidly, reflecting the fact that she’s not just a regular Valkyrie, but daughter of the goddess Freya herself. While her powers grow almost beyond control, Mist remains the same. She is the quiet, stoic heroine, almost to the point of being bland. She has very few defining qualities and no faults to speak of, which makes it very hard for us to see her as an actual person and sympathize with her.

It needs to be said that the worldbuilding here is quite spectacular. Admittedly, it relies heavily on Norse mythology, but I was impressed both by Krinard’s research and by her use of mythological figures. Loki, of course, causes mayhem on every turn (try reading this without picturing Tom Hiddleston as Loki, I dare you), and Freya, a silent threat so very distant but so present at the same time, was even more impressive.

My emotional investment starts and ends with Loki’s son Danny, an autistic boy too powerful not to be considered a threat to gods. Krinard was very smart to include him in this installment, not only because he makes us feel protective, but because he makes Loki a far more interesting villain.

Overall, I will be reading the next book, despite the flaws mentioned. There are things that could have been better, but there’s also plenty to admire. This series may not be for everyone, but I’m already deeply invested in it.

Get Even is the first in a new series by Gretchen McNeil, author of Ten, 3:59 and Possess. The book is very dynamic and tightly plotted – the story itGet Even is the first in a new series by Gretchen McNeil, author of Ten, 3:59 and Possess. The book is very dynamic and tightly plotted – the story itself is well thought through, and the mystery is almost impossible to solve ahead of time. There are many clues and probably red herrings, but not enough to come to any sort of conclusion about the culprit.

The problem with having four very different point-of-view characters is that it’s hard to form any kind of emotional connection with them. Each of the girls has her own agenda and they are often secretly, or even unknowingly, in conflict with each other, but it’s impossible for us to choose sides since the narrative is divided pretty equally, which also makes it difficult to actually care about the outcome. If anything, every one of these girls is pretty unlikeable at times, and while their initial goal is noble, their overall behavior isn’t commendable in the least.

The lack of characterization and proper emotional connection was most likely intentional - meant to plant a seed of doubt into our minds. We were supposed to question the girls' actions, alibis and motivations. Any one of them could easily be the murderer. In addition, most of the romances were a bit superfluous, nothing more than an unnecessary burden on the narrative.

But even that’s something a more patient reader can easily live with. The biggest issue with Get Even is that it ends with what is basically a cliffhanger. We learn nothing about the murderer(s), nothing about the fate of our protagonists, and not a single thing is actually resolved. The book just ends at a certain point, and while the ending is fairly memorable, it also feels a lot like cheating.

The next book is probably worth picking up, but with caution and a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. Let’s see where it all goes, shall we? We could end up pleasantly surprised.

For a series opener, Dark Metropolis had plenty of potential, but unfortunately, a lot of it was left unfulfilled. While there were certainly advantagFor a series opener, Dark Metropolis had plenty of potential, but unfortunately, a lot of it was left unfulfilled. While there were certainly advantages to this story (its very unique take on zombies just one of the many examples), the final result is unfocused and just a tiny bit immature.

The world, for one, was neither clear nor developed as it should have been. The story has a distinct historical feel, but we’re given neither the time nor the place, which leaves us feeling untethered and lost. It’s a grim post-war world with very limited resources and very high demands and the government is determined to keep things up to their usual standard, regardless of the cost.

We meet three pretty equal protagonists – Thea, Nan and Freddy. Quite frankly, Nan was the only one who seemed to know what she was doing. She approached all her problems with determination and strength, while Thea and Freddy blundered about, coming up with ridiculously childish plans and generally making a mess of things.

I believe Dark Metropolis might be better suited for a younger audience. I myself found this story entertaining, but it lacked in both structure and emotional depth, and at least some of it can be blamed on the characters. If it looks good, perhaps read a sample first just to make sure that this type of story works for you.

When this book first came my way, I didn’t recognize the name Rachel Aaron and was surprised when a friend talked about her like she’s someone I’m supWhen this book first came my way, I didn’t recognize the name Rachel Aaron and was surprised when a friend talked about her like she’s someone I’m supposed to be very familiar with. The joke’s on me though, guys, because Rachel Aaron is Rachel Bach, author of the Paradox trilogy, published by Orbit, which I’m currently enjoying in audio format.

For reasons I can only assume, Aaron/Bach chose to take the self-published route with her new Heartstrikers series, and while I’m sure promoting it will be more difficult, I have a feeling traditional publishers would have tried to tame this book, change it to make it fit into the usual genre confines and definitions. Trying to turn a book like Nice Dragons Finish Last into something less than it actually is would be akin to cold-blooded murder.

Nice Dragons Finish Last has elements of urban fantasy, science fiction and futuristic dystopia, combined in a way that works splendidly. The story takes place in a futuristic version of Detroit called Detroit Free Zone, where magic came back with a bang after a comet strike in 2035. It is the only place where dragons are absolutely illegal and it’s where Julius’s mother decided to dump him, bound in his human form, with merely a month to prove himself as a worthy dragon.

According to his family, Julius is a poor excuse for a dragon. He has very little ambition and no violent tendencies whatsoever. He’s in no hurry to outsmart anyone and he doesn’t much care about collecting treasure. From a dragon’s perspective he is essentially useless and his numerous family members don’t hesitate to tell him so loudly and as often as possible. Even with merely a month to impress them, Julius can’t quite force himself to be the dragon his mother wants him to be. While certainly resourceful, he is soft-hearted and kind, and very reluctant to step on anyone’s toes.

The real fun starts when Julius teams up with a young witch from Nevada. After that, it’s one hilarious adventure after another for the two of them. Aaron did an excellent job with these characters as well as several secondary ones, especially Julius’s brother Bob who is a constant source of amusement.

I hesitate to reveal any plot points since I feel that it's best to go into this blindly. Urban fantasy fans, fans of dragons and especially fans of good humor will find plenty to love about Rachel Aaron’s new series. I certainly did.

Most of us are at least vaguely familiar with the story of Lizzie Andrew Borden, a young woman accused of killing her father and her stepmother with aMost of us are at least vaguely familiar with the story of Lizzie Andrew Borden, a young woman accused of killing her father and her stepmother with an axe in 1892 and subsequently acquitted. The murders remain a mystery to this day – while Lizzie was released, no one else was ever accused and she remained the prime suspect, at least in the eyes of the community.

Despite being ostracized by her small community, Lizzie refused to leave Fall River, choosing instead to stay there in relative isolation for the rest of her long life, even after her older sister abandoned her. But why would she do that? And how was she acquitted in the first place when the evidence against her was overwhelming? What if there was something larger at play, something too horrible to even contemplate? What if poor Lizzie served as a guardian against some nameless evil set on destroying inhabitants of her small town?

"This evil cannot hide from me. No matter what guise it assumes, I will be waiting for it. With an axe."

The story is told mainly in first person, from Lizzie’s point of view, with other people’s diary entries, eyewitness accounts, personal correspondence and such inserted between chapters. The story couldn’t have been told as effectively by Lizzie alone. Although they might seem like a burden at first, other characters’ accounts quickly become a welcome addition, providing insight we would otherwise be denied.

Maplecroft is researched to the finest of details and extremely well crafted. Cherie Priest is a force to be reckoned with; she has been nominated for many literary awards in the past, including Hugo, Nebula and Locus. I’m sure Maplecroft will easily follow in those footsteps. After all, it is a brilliantly done Lovecraftian horror filled with monsters that provoke absolute dread. It truly is horror at its finest, one that is sure to withstand the test of time.

Those of you who are more squeamish should perhaps read a sample first, but true horror enthusiasts like myself have a lot to look forward to. Highly recommended.

A whole lot of time has passed between books three and four in Briggs’ Alpha & Omega series, and yet most of us haven’t forgotten a single thing aA whole lot of time has passed between books three and four in Briggs’ Alpha & Omega series, and yet most of us haven’t forgotten a single thing about Fair Game or any of the previous books. The explanation is rather simple: it’s all due to the quality of Briggs’ writing. She is, and always was, incredible. I dare say she’s the reigning queen of urban fantasy.

Dead Heat is not her best book to date, though, not even close, but Briggs at her weakest is still better than 90% other authors. It read at times like a filler book, and it was, on occasion, more an ode to horses than anything else. Patty loves her horses and she knows them well – understanding their behavior has influenced her writing greatly, and in fact, the way she writes her werewolves is heavily influenced by her knowledge of animal psychology. She raises horses and spends every day around them, which makes her books truly special. In this installment, however, she took things just a tiny bit too far, offering a lot more information on breeding and raising horses than her story actually needed.

That aside, it’s always a pleasure to see how her characters develop and behave. Charles and Anna have progressed so much, and while it’s more obvious on her, his changes seem a lot more significant. I didn’t understand the need to bring in another woman as Charles’ former love interest, but while it bothered me as these things usually do, it also showed how much more confident Anna has become and how firmly she believes in her marriage.

The mystery elements were very nicely done and that part of the story progressed at an excellent pace. This is where Patty’s experience really comes to light – she weaves her stories expertly and smoothly, balancing romance, creepy moments, dreadful monsters and character development with seeming ease. She is the absolute best at what she does and I hope she’ll keep writing stories in this universe for many more years to come.

Her next book will be in the Mercy Thompson series and as far as I know, the next Alpha & Omega book has yet to be announced, but things happen on a firm timeline and, with each new installment, the two series are brought closer and closer together. I feel that they’ll collide at some point, especially now that war with the fae seems more or less inevitable.

As someone who enjoyed The Queen of the Tearling more than I could possibly put into words, I waited with bated breath for the continuation of Kelsea’As someone who enjoyed The Queen of the Tearling more than I could possibly put into words, I waited with bated breath for the continuation of Kelsea’s story. There was so much left to resolve and so many obvious dangers ahead of this simple yet sharply intelligent heroine. To say that I jumped at the chance to read The Invasion of the Tearling early is somewhat of an understatement. I begged for it and was more than ready to sell some small portion of my soul for it. Unfortunately, I would have paid much more than the book actually deserves.

Most of the criticism for the first book was aimed at its weak worldbuilding. The world we were given was well-built, but the details on how it all came to be were flimsy at best. Tearling may be a fantasy world, but it’s firmly rooted in our own; however, the connection between the two was never properly explained. In The Invasion, Erika Johansen overcompensates by giving us two stories, one in Tearling, and one in a futuristic dystopian version of our own world. The entire novel jumps back and forth between the two, usually at the most inconvenient of times, successfully distancing the readers from both main characters and making the narrative seem choppy and disconnected.

In addition to the extra storyline, Kelsea herself undergoes some serious changes. In The Invasion, she turns into a despicable person, giving us only brief glimpses of that sharp intelligence I admired so much. She becomes a rash, vain girl with only one goal in mind – proving to herself and to others that she’s all grown up. To say that I dislike seeing my heroines so thoroughly and senselessly ruined simply isn’t enough. Everything else that was wrong with this book was forgivable, but the utter ruin of this character was not.

However, at the end of the day, this is a simple truth we need to face: power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. We followed a simple forest girl as she turned into a sharp and honest queen, and then into a vain and powerful creature. We haven’t actually seen her redeemed, only partly, but even when she does find her path, I fear that she’s already done some unforgivable mistakes.

Finally, The Invasion of the Tearling wasn’t what I’d hoped it would be, but it deserves some credit for its originality and creativity in worldbuilding. Johansen’s writing is fairly simplistic, but impressively clever as well. Not all is lost, the third book might bring us a once again changed Kelsea and a differently constructed narrative. Let’s hope that it does.

Three five-star ratings for three books in this series, that’s pretty much all you need to know before running to the bookstore to get your own copiesThree five-star ratings for three books in this series, that’s pretty much all you need to know before running to the bookstore to get your own copies of all three available books. But if you need more convincing (as I usually do), I’m more than happy to sing praise until I go hoarse. Or lose a finger typing. You get my point.

Here it is in no uncertain terms: The Others, Anne Bishop’s fantasy series, is brilliant, no two ways about it. Her worldbuilding is extraordinary, her characters fascinating, and even the tiniest details of her plots are thought through. So many things happen at once, but nothing is random and nothing is without significance for our Meg and the terra indigene. Bishop has many successful novels behind her and her experience is evident on every page, her control over her story absolute.

Vision in Silver brings us back to the wonderful (albeit violent) world of Thaisia. Meg faces new challenges while adapting to her life in the Courtyard, and she needs to be strong enough to help not only herself, but the other blood prophets as well. Luckily for her and the rest of the cassandra sangue she has both determination and Simon’s unwavering support.

The human police are working more closely with the Others despite facing repercussions from the Humans First and Last movement. The HFL is becoming stronger by the day, constantly working to turn the public against the Others (not that they have to work very hard), spreading lies and bold misinterpretations of events, blaming the terra indigene for everything from hunger to bad weather. Being a so-called Wolf lover is becoming more and more difficult in Thaisia, and the humans working in the Courtyard are going through a very tough time.

Simon, being the progressive leader he is, certainly won’t allow the Courtyard humans to suffer for their allegiances. After all, his Meg needs her human pack, and everything Meg needs, Simon doesn’t hesitate to provide.

With her childlike view of the world, Meg is a very interesting character, but I found Simon even more fascinating this time around. He has the instincts of an animal and the astuteness of the most successful businessman, but he often fails to understand the human way of things. He tries, though, mostly because understanding humans means understanding and helping his Meg, but the process is slow and often hilarious. These two are slowly finding their way to each other. They are, for all intents and purposes, in a relationship, even if they don’t seem to realize it. They practically live together and mostly act like an old married couple, but the way they show their affection is somewhat different from what we’d expect.

And that is precisely what I adore about the series. Bishop never lets us forget that Simon Wolfgard is wolf and only wolf. His kind has learned to live in human skin, at least temporarily, but they find it extremely uncomfortable and tend to avoid it if at all possible. Simon thinks like a wolf and acts like a wolf, and his understanding of humans is minimal. He sees the monkeys, as he calls us, mostly as prey, with only a few exceptions in the Courtyard itself. This series is basically about the clash of two cultures. Two species that have a history of horrible violence to each other are trying to find a way to live together in peace. Their differences are huge, but if there’s enough common ground, thanks to Simon Wolfgard and Meg Corbyn, they might just succeed.

4.5 starsI guess everything in this world can be fixed if you wait long enough. I am not known for my patience, I’m afraid, which means I’d given up o4.5 starsI guess everything in this world can be fixed if you wait long enough. I am not known for my patience, I’m afraid, which means I’d given up on this series somewhere around City of Fallen Angels, but Clare has come a long way since then, and it would seem that so have I. City of Heavenly Fire is a worthy finale to such a long and well-beloved series.

Clare’s novels are always emotional roller coasters, even more so when it’s the last installment. If there’s one thing the woman knows how to do extremely well, it’s writing these long, emotionally draining endings. The Clockwork Princess nearly killed me, and I fared no better with City of Heavenly Fire. I didn’t cry as much, but boy, did it hurt at times.

There were so many loose ends to tie, so many impending disasters, so much to fear and even more to root for. Clare handled it all seemingly with ease, the good moments and the bad, the joy and the loss. None of it, not even the extended epilogue, seemed like fan service, and yet I was completely satisfied with how we left Clary, Jace and the gang.

The romance, at least the main one, takes a back seat in this one since these two pretty much know where they stand. Other things are more important, as well it should be, but we get plenty of time to enjoy Clary and Jace as a couple. It’s nice to see them working together, understanding each other perfectly and trusting one another implicitly.

There were plenty of broken hearts to fix in this final installment, though, and it jst wasn’t possible for everyone. Some couples found their way, some were left with nothing but loss and pain, but there was a great balance to it all which I couldn’t help but admire.

There’s something to be said about a great villain, and Sebastian Morgenstern is one of the best. His cruelty is chilling, his actions completely unpredictable, and his heart, no matter who his family may be, is well beyond redemption.

Of the two narrators, I much preferred Sophie Turner’s parts. Jason Dohring’s narration seemed a bit unnatural and his inflection was oftentimes a bit odd. I also didn’t understand the purpose of Turner’s British accent since most of this series takes place in New York, but then again, who in their right mind complains about British accent? From where I stand, it’s always a win. Overall, more than 20 hours of audio seemed pretty short with these two and I wouldn’t hesitate to buy something narrated by either of them.

I realize I was pretty vague in this review, but honestly, I see no way to review this more directly without spoiling things for someone, which is something I’d hate to do. I had my ups and downs with the Mortal Instruments series, but in the end, I’m more than happy with the journey in its entirety.

Robyn Carr’s Thunder Point series is a favorite of mine. All these books are perfect rainy day comfort reads that make me want to curl up with a blankRobyn Carr’s Thunder Point series is a favorite of mine. All these books are perfect rainy day comfort reads that make me want to curl up with a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate and shut the world out. Her Thunder Point is a very small town with a tight-knit community. Everyone is up in everyone else’s business, but not one of them with bad intentions.

Consequently, I see all the characters as my dear friends. There is a couple at the center of each book, but the community is never neglected. We get to see those we’re already very familiar with, as well as those we have yet to get to know.

That said, it makes me incredibly sad to write a less-than-stellar review for this latest Thunder Point novel. Scott and Peyton’s story isn’t up to Carr’s usual standard, and as hard as I tried, I failed to get invested like I should have. Above all else I was bored and severely annoyed by their lack of communication.

Although present, the community I love so much took a back seat in this book, which would have been fine if Scott and Peyton were a strong enough couple to carry the full novel. Neither their romance nor their problems were big enough to keep me interested throughout, though, and I wished others were given a more important role.

Once again, Therese Plummer completely saved the day. She is the type of narrator who could easily read a phone book and make it sound interesting. Her confidence and voice characterization are practically unmatched. I doubt I would have finished this book if not for her. As it was, she made the whole experience more pleasant.

I will go back to this series, of course. I'm not quite ready to give up after one weak link. I just hope The Homecoming proves to be a diffrent kind of read, one closer to those first four I liked so much.

A few years ago, when Kendare Blake first published Anna Dressed in Blood and completely won us over, I never dreamed that her books could become evenA few years ago, when Kendare Blake first published Anna Dressed in Blood and completely won us over, I never dreamed that her books could become even better. Anna was such a spectacular debut that it left very little room for improvement. And yet here we are, in the middle of a new series that is even more beautiful, more mature, written with a surer hand and far greater control over the narrative.

Mortal Gods is exactly what the title suggests – it brings the story of Greek gods divided into two factions and warring among themselves, both groups desperately fighting for survival. Athena leads one side, our side, and Ares leads the other. Their conflicts are merciless and bloody and their only goal is to survive and get revenge.

Just because Athena, Hermes and Odysseus are on our side does not mean that they are in the right. This entire series exists in a morally gray area. Ancient Gods, no matter how well-adapted to our times, have a whole different set of values and moral principles. Human life is not as significant for them, and scruples are often just another word in the dictionary. Even mortal characters like Cassandra and Andy are reincarnations of important mortals from ancient times, and the more they remember their old lives, the more they adapt to the gods’ way of thinking.

Still, one can’t help but feel sympathy for a physically weakened Athena while she coughs out feathers from her lungs, or our poor, likeable Hermes, who eats and eats and eats, but is never full or strong like he used to be. The torture of each god is highly symbolic. For instance, according to the legend, Athena once punished her crow familiar by turning his beautiful white feathers to black and now she is tortured by feathers sprouting painfully from her body. Hermes, god of feasts and banquets (among other things) is never sated and he’s getting thinner by the day.

While Cassandra grieves and despairs, Athena and Odysseus are dancing around each other, never quite reaching a common ground. The love of these two is so painfully obvious, and yet there are so many barriers between them, far too many things that stand in the way of their true feelings, Athena’s pride among them.

Mortal Gods is even darker and bloodier than Antigoddess, which is no small thing, believe me. Blake is known for the vivid imagery she creates with seeming ease. Her descriptions are always detailed and precise, and the emotional reactions she provokes are off the charts. She always achieves the desired effect, be it sympathy, horror or even disgust.

After three wonderful and surprisingly original installments, including a heart-stopping conclusion we’ve all been waiting for, I’m ready to4.5 stars

After three wonderful and surprisingly original installments, including a heart-stopping conclusion we’ve all been waiting for, I’m ready to give my final verdict on the Jasper Dent trilogy: with these books, Barry Lyga brought a much needed breath of fresh air to Young Adult fiction, which makes him pretty amazing in my eyes, but Charlie Thurston, the narrator of these beauties, is absolutely brilliant.

I’m getting ahead of myself here. Let’s start from the beginning. After three novels and too many cliffhangers to count, we finally have our answers and Jazz and his friends have a right to rest. In a heart-stopping, bloody conclusion completely up to this series’ extremely high standards, Billy Dent and the infamous Crow King brought all their dirty secrets to light.

This book is much darker than its two predecessor, not for its blood and gore (of that there’s actually less), but for its psychological side and its character development. After being brave and true for so long, despite his horrendous upbringing, in Blood of My Blood, Jasper Dent is finally pushed over the edge. A new Jazz arises, a cold, detached, sociopathic version of him. In other words, Jasper-my-boy really becomes Billy Dent’s son.

It was incredibly painful to watch Jazz’s descent into almost-madness. He was sometimes too clever for his own good, but that cleverness caused us to have endless faith in him, so when he finally couldn’t take any more, we were left with our mouths wide open in surprise, hoping against hope that something would turn him back and make him who he was once again. But at the same time, the adult inside us, the person who knows that not all damage can be repaired, doubts a positive outcome for Jazz.

Unfortunately, the biggest question for us wasn’t who, as it should have been. Instead, it was just how. The identity of Ugly J was pretty obvious from the start, and the only thing we didn’t know was how everything would go down. I honestly think that the characters should have caught up sooner, except maybe Jazz, whose ignorance was completely understandable. But I loved how it all played out in the end, and I was more than happy with the way Lyga handled things.

I think I need to repeat Charlie Thurston’s name once more, to make sure you remember him well in the future. He made this great series infinitely better, and even those rough spots along the way were smoothed out by his excellent narration. Billy Dent would give anyone the creeps, but Thurnston’s voice somehow made him seem multi-layered: crazy and sociopathic, sure, but also hilarious and oddly likeable too.

I’m not sure what we can expect from Barry Lyga in the future, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be awesome. Perhaps we can even hope for more from this world! I’d love to check in now and then to see how everyone is doing, that’s for sure. I’d say Lyga deserves a standing ovation.

There’s something to be said about books that take you completely by surprise, grab you with their first few words sometime late in the evening and reThere’s something to be said about books that take you completely by surprise, grab you with their first few words sometime late in the evening and refuse to let go until the very last page, when you, bleary-eyed but elated, finally go to sleep already thinking about the next installment. Queen of the Tearling came to me in a month when I had little time and even less patience for fiction, and yet it held my attention from start to finish, leaving me thrilled and completely breathless in the end.

The pacing was a bit slower than expected, but I for one thoroughly enjoy a worldbuilding well thought-out, even when there were things I wished were done differently. Queen of the Tearling is high fantasy with roots in modern society, which makes it unique but also a bit confusing. It’s an interesting blend of old customs and new technology that sometimes worked and sometimes bothered me greatly. I would have preferred a simple historical fantasy, or even some straightforward futuristic world, but this blend of the two didn’t always sit well with me.

Johansen took her time with Kelsea and her closest companions, giving them layer upon layer of complex personality, but at the same time she completely neglected her villain, Kelsea’s uncle, who was almost cartoonish in his heartless stupidity. Truth be told, a villain can make or break a book, but in this case, with everything I admired about Queen of the Tearling, I found that I didn’t mind this fault too much.

I did feel that Kelsea’s physical appearance was somewhat exaggerated in the attempt to give more weight to her inner strength. Something similar was initially done to Elisa in The Girl of Fire and Thorns but to an even larger extent. Kelsea constantly struggles with her looks and her weight, which I suppose adds a layer to her character and makes her seem more human, but it’s something I could have certainly done without. A girl can be smart and brave and resourceful and be quite ordinary on the outside, not too pretty and certainly not quite so unattractive. And it wasn’t just Kelsea’s distorted self-image we were dealing with; other people never hesitated to tell her that she looks nothing like a queen.

Queen of the Tearling has no more than a hint of romance, a stray thought here and there, an occasional yearning for someone completely out of reach. As a romance girl through and through, I would normally be very bothered by this, but this fabulous story, well plotted and nearly flawlessly executed, left no room for wishes and regrets.

This is a story I’m quite eager to continue. Even with a few faults that I’m sure will be fixed later on, it’s the best fantasy I’ve read in a good long while. The second book hasn’t even been properly announced and I’m already impatient to get my greedy little hands on it.

It’s been a very long time since I picked up a J.R. Ward book. I stopped reading this series after book 5, not because I didn’t like them (I loved theIt’s been a very long time since I picked up a J.R. Ward book. I stopped reading this series after book 5, not because I didn’t like them (I loved them!), but because I just needed a break and I somehow never went back. But when this gorgeousness arrived on my doorstep, I knew all resistance on my part would be futile.

The King is told from multiple perspectives, which is something Ward didn’t do back when I was following the series. Seeing as I skipped more than a few books along the way (trust me, I regret it now), I had a hard time following the additional storylines. But I remember Beth and Wrath very well and I enjoyed every second I got to spend with the two of them. They’ve come a long way and changed each other so much, but they’ve both kept the most important parts of their personalities. They can be extremely hardheaded, difficult and uncompromising (well, Wrath especially), but once they come to their senses, they are a formidable couple. And so darn adorable too.

As a general rule, I dislike flashbacks in both books and movies, but there was simply no other way to tell the story of Wrath’s parents, and it was one worth telling. Wrath and Anha once ruled the entire vampire race and their beautiful and tragic story is what touched me the most in this book.

As funny as I sometimes find the names of these characters, I appreciate that it’s Ward’s signature of sorts and accept is as such even as she accumulates more and more of them, to the point where I’m finding it hard to keep track. That said, there’s a character named iAm, for heaven’s sake, and a new character named s’Ex, which if you ask me is just pushing things too far.

But we don’t read this for the names, we read it despite them and believe you me, there was plenty to love about The King. So many interesting stories have come together, and even though the details were lost on me, I was able to piece together most of it. This world is so intricate, so very well done, and the characters are simply fabulous (ridiculous names notwithstanding).

The thing I like most about Ward is the thick layer of humor in her writing. The King is full of hilarious pop culture references that have the additional purpose of anchoring the story in our world, connecting the supernatural and the (overly) familiar. There are mentions of Miley Cyrus, Taylor Swift and Man of Steel, and that’s just in the first chapter. Admittedly there were times when all the references to products, celebrities and such got to be too much, but all in all, including them was a brave and interesting move on Ward’s part.

I am so very tempted to go back and read what I’ve missed. For those of you who’ve been following the series diligently, The King is the best reward you could possibly get. And those among you who are yet undecided should make the decision to read this. There’s much to look forward to.